It was old-fashioned looking, nothing like the scrawl she was used to writing on prescriptions. She ran some basic errands and sorted through the paperwork. He also needed a certain drug from the drugstore which she guessed was for the dog. She was also asked to go to his PO Box where he had his mail and newspapers delivered. Apparently, the man was subscribed to over fifteen newspapers and magazines. She had no idea how he consumed all this information after a full day of work but she guessed it was not her business to wonder.
She reviewed the list once again and the instructions, taking time to call the directions to the drugstore. She also noticed the credit card attached to the notepad with the Trust's header on the top. A separate note said that she was to use this for all approved purchases and payments.
She went to the foyer and put her raincoat and bag on again, popping out her umbrella under the awning over the top steps of the porch. She sighed before she dashed to her car, hopping over the puddles.
An hour, multiple stops, and lunch later, she was back to the office. She was exhausted and drenched from being out in the rain and all she wanted was to go home and get in bed. But she had a few hours to go and needed to put her purchases and do the small list of things she was instructed to do inside the house.
She actually had the time to pet the dog and wondered where it had been all this time. So far, she hadn't seen it once and Lee confirmed that Mr. Wright had kept him outside so that she wasn't scared.
The rain was pouring, so she was a bit worried about the dog, honestly.
She peered out into the backyard and saw that the dog house was big enough to keep the dog. The cover over it was visible as well, so she simply shrugged and locked the door.
She switched off the lights of the house slowly and closed the doors behind her. She walked down the stairs to her desk and filled out her daily report. She typed it out, not wanting to reveal her hideous handwriting, and left it on the edge of the desk as was instructed.
As she gathered her things, she noted that it had been a good day, though mundane. She was happy to head home to order a pizza and go over the day with her mother. She wondered if she would see Mr. Wright anytime soon since her interest was getting more and more piqued as the days went by.
Surely, she would come face to face with him at some point, wouldn't she?
- - - - -
Woods.
The scent still assaulted his nostrils and he could only assume it was the new PA. It was one of those fragrances that at first smelled really good, but when it was everywhere he went, it became overwhelming. He liked it a lot, but it was a little too much to process at times.
He was teetering between the two which was incredibly annoying.
Regardless, he decided to leave her a note asking her to stop wearing the perfume, claiming he was getting migraines from it.
This was a stretch but it was messing with his head one way or the other and migraine sounded as plausible as anything else he could come up with. He couldn't possibly say that he had super-human smelling and her perfume lingered in the air, now, could he?
He was in the dressing room, removing a t-shirt from his hanger. He was going out that night. He needed to. He had the tendency to shut himself off at the house at night and decompress from a long day at work. Normally, he didn't go into shooting most of the year unless he was booked back to back, but this was was particularly busy for him. Because his manager had booked it for him, he had no choice but to work every day of the year.
He pulled out a maroon shirt over his head and tugged his jeans up, buttoning them at the top before walking over to the desk to peruse the mail from that day. He held the envelope under his nose and winced.
Damn woods.
Sniffing the envelope one more time, he tucked several of the papers under his arm and left by the front door instead of the back. It was still slightly misty but he headed off in the direction of the exclusive club where one could get in with only reservations.
His human side wanted loud music and dancing sometimes. He didn't have any alcohol at home, so that was a great motivator as well. He spread out the paper and asked for a drink. He pulled out a seat and settled in. He scanned the first paper, tagging the items of interest. There were several small mentions of the type of incident he was looking for, surprisingly close to town, which was concerning. He would take the tagged articles and do some further research when he was at home.
As he read, he was aware of the nagging pain that would not leave him. He wondered if someone else was wearing the same cursed fragrance that made him want to frolic in the woods. This could be a problem for him if this perfume became popular.
Irritated, he sniffed the air and found nothing of interest, and finally realized that the odor was coming from him.
He pulled up the front of his shirt to his nose and inhaled.
'Shit.'
A burst of fragrance from the shirt came and his face began to spin. He dropped the shirt for a moment and took a gulp of fresh air.
Better. He was a master of discipline. A werewolf living in a civilized society meant hiding his need to change into a wolf whenever the urge came. But he was intrigued by his reaction and reasoned that he should attempt to get used to it since it was bothering him so much and making it hard for him to control himself.
Randall Wright loved a challenge more than anything.
So, he sat and read, ignoring the throbbing in his head and heart. Occasionally, though, he found himself breathing in deeply under the guise to see if it was any less offensive.
It wasn't.
But he didn't stop either.
Like a junkie craving drugs, each time he sucked in the scent, he felt a rush, followed by pain and then disgust at his lack of control.
After an hour of repeating this ridiculous pattern, he threw away his untouched drink and collected his papers. He was more than a little disturbed by his behavior and irritated at the power this had over him.
He stood in the parking lot, torn about what to do. He had two choices. Go home as intended or go out and strip in the patch of forest across the lake.
The craving won and he drove home. He threw the papers on the couch and sprinted to the back door. He walked near the lake with determination and stripped himself off his clothing because he had already turned all his lights off. He changed slowly and sank into the lake, paddling to the other side, unable to keep his instincts at bay.